Let's Play! Hetalia Fantasia!
by Liete
Summary: -US,UK- A story within a story. America and England are tasked with beta testing Japan's newest video game, where they take control of Alfred and Arthur on a quest to save the world. To reach their goals, both pairs have to learn to work together.
1. Chapter 1

**Let's Play! Hetalia Fantasia!  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: ****This is my contribution to the livejournal community usxuk's 2010 Secret Santa Exchange. It will be approximately three chapters long and has no association with my other RPG AU (which I'll hopefully have the drive to continue after writing this, ha). It's a story within a story. The frame story contains America and England. The story within contains Alfred and Arthur. **

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* * *

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America's mood could only be described as ridiculously elated when he awoke one morning to find an e-mail he'd been anticipating for months. Japan had finally finished the beta of the RPG he and America had collaborated on, and the game was included in an attachment to the e-mail. America couldn't download it fast enough.

"I've also selected a partner for you to test the game with. He'll be available at midnight your time to play with you. Please report back with your detailed opinions when you've finished, America-san," the e-mail said.

Leave it to Japan to know that he'd be willing to stay up to odd hours of the night to play a new game, but the thought of having to wait that long after he'd finally gotten his figurative hands on the game made him whine at the computer screen. He vaguely wondered who Japan had selected as his gaming partner. He assumed it would be one of the members of the forum that Japan frequented, because he'd planned to release the beta to them as well .

America frowned at his computer and e-mailed Japan back, asking if there was some way he could play the game solo until his partner signed on later. His answer was that no, their particular copies of the game had been specially programmed so that they'd only be able to play with each other.

It was only eight in the morning and America was itching for it to be midnight already. In the meantime he created his character, an awesome gunner that he designed after himself. Luckily, Japan had followed America's recommendation that he be able to create a character that looked just like him. He named the character Alfred Jones after his pseudonym. He couldn't wait to try him out.

After finishing various customizations of the character, America was shocked to find that only an hour had elapsed. He glared at the clock to no avail, then finally decided to go find another way to amuse himself for the rest of the day.

* * *

An all-too-familiar tour of Washington D.C., a new save file for Resident Evil — complete with hiding behind Tony for much of the duration of the game — and a Happy Meal later, America finally seated himself in his computer chair armed with enough potato chips and soda to feed an army. He slipped on his headset and cracked his knuckles. Go time.

Knowing Japan, his partner would be a gamer on par with his own skills — someone who he could plow through the game with at first, then take it easy with the second time through. He expected nothing but the best as he booted up the game and watched the loading screen that stated it was waiting for his partner to sign on. America leaned back in his chair and fiddled with his Rubik's Cube — the one he'd solved many times — before until the game signaled that his partner was online. He tossed the cube to the side and leaned forward in excitement.

"Hello! So you're my partner, eh?" he said as the game opened up to reveal his character standing in the middle of a village. His only response was static with an unintelligible voice occasionally coming through. America frowned as he strained to understand what the voice was saying, but then he realized who the other non-NPC character was. It was a black mage with blond hair and green eyes, but more telling were those unmistakable eyebrows sticking out like a sore thumb on his forehead. There was only one person who would think it was a good idea to create a character who looked like that, and only one person who would be so technologically impaired, as well.

"Oh, hell. You're England, aren't you?" America said with a groan. He leaned back in his chair and clutched at his forehead. He must have done something to anger Japan. That could be the only explanation why his selected gaming partner was England, of all people. Give him Prussia, at least. The guy was a complete troll, but at least he actually knew how to play a video game.

"A-America? Bloody hell, what is Japan up to this time?" England's voice finally said, clear and very loud. America winced and pulled off his headphones at the level of noise. He glanced at the volume bar, and it was definitely lower than England's voice would have him believe. Yes, he realized at that, it really was England, which meant that his much-anticipated gaming experience was going to be completely ruined. He'd have a few words with Japan about that later.

"Crap, it really is you. Turn down the volume, by the way. Bad enough it's you to begin with without you causing me to go deaf, too," he said into the microphone portion of the headset, then cautiously slipped the headphones back on his ears.

There was sputtering on the other end, followed by England's indignant, but much quieter, voice. "I'll have you know that Japan implored me to assist him with his latest 'video game' venture. Although you are insufferable, I won't go back on my word."

"What's with the gentleman act, England? Everyone already knows you're nothing like that." America retrieved his discarded Rubik's Cube and began fiddling with it again. He needed _something_ to occupy his time until he could get a hold of Japan, after all.

"Oh, belt up, you wanker."

"There, that's more like the England with a stick permanently up his ass that I know!"

"I expect you want to play this game, don't you? Then kindly shut it."

"All right, all right. Geeze."

"Thank you. Now, I know patience and support are concepts beyond your realm of understanding, but you'll have to assist me until I fully grasp the mechanics of this game."

"So basically never, then," America said, choosing to ignore all of the nasty things England said in response. "So you really want to play this, huh?"

"I believe I already stated that that was the case, yes," England said impatiently. America sighed and sat up a little straighter in his chair as he placed his fingers on the keyboard to take control of his character.

"Well, all right, but you better not hold me back…"

* * *

Alfred was finally leaving to embark on his adventure, something he'd been wanting to do ever since he'd heard that the greatest adventurers in the world were all congregating in the same place. There was a monster that appeared every century or so, and all the signs indicated that it was high time for the monster to wreak havoc upon the world once more. It had only managed to be fended off in times past, but there were hopes that it would be defeated once and for all this time. Alfred wanted to be the one to do it.

Unfortunately, his mother and her penchant for worrying too much interfered with his plans to leave right away by himself. If nothing else, she insisted, he needed a partner to travel with, so they could look after each other on their journey. His brother, Matthew, refused to come along. He didn't want to want to go on suicidal adventures to save the world. The other villagers were content to remain where they were, as well. That only left one option.

Arthur, a black mage who had trained in the city, had settled in their village not long ago. He hated it there, however, and was looking to leave for something bigger and better. He was too weak physically to travel on his own, so he needed a partner to accompany him. He and Alfred should have been a good match — a seemingly perfect resolution to their mutual undesirable situation. The only problem was that it had long since been established that they didn't get along.

Alfred wasn't going to let that stop him, though. He was going to save the world, even if it meant that he had to travel with that prickly black mage and deal with his constant complaining. Great heroes could overcome anything, including pain-in-the-ass partners. The fact that he sent his brother to ask said mage if he'd come along on his journey was irrelevant.

"He says he'll go with you if you promise to keep your mouth shut," Matthew said with a weary sigh as he trudged back into the house. He looked somewhat singed, and Alfred could only assume he'd been on the wrong end of a fire spell.

"Oh, really? Well, you go tell him that I'll only go with him if he takes that stick out of his—"

"Tell him yourself, Al! I'm done being your messenger!" Matthew interrupted and threw the crumpled-up advertisement for adventurers at Alfred's head. Before Alfred could respond, Matthew was stomping down the hall to his bedroom. Alfred sighed and picked up his wide-brimmed hat, which he placed on his head as he walked out the door.

The village was a tiny one, with a handful of residents who made their living out on the countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. There was only one general store and there were no magic shops or guilds to speak of. It was really no place for a budding adventurer to grow up, but Alfred had managed to find a way to establish himself as an adventurer in the gunner class, anyway. When Alfred had turned thirteen he'd been given a pair of pistols that his late father had bought in the city as a gift, and he had honed his sharpshooting skills by picking off monsters who harassed travelers who wandered off the road to search for gold in the fields. He grew into an excellent marksman, but he craved more than what his little village could offer. The call for adventurers was his wish come true.

If he'd had his way, he would have been on the road to the city the instant he'd received the news. His mother's insistence on a traveling partner was merely a minor setback.

So he was feeling rather cheerful as he stepped into the inn that doubled as a tavern. Although it was still a little early in the day, some of the village men were already tossing back pints of ale. They weren't of any interest to Alfred, however, as his sights were set on the figure hunched over the bar. It was the same figure who was there every day, drinking and harassing the other patrons until the innkeeper would finally escort him to his room. Alfred straightened his jacket and walked casually over to the bar, where he leaned over it. He could feel eyes burning into the side of his face, but he just grinned at the rows of bottles in front of him.

"So I heard you're willing to go on an adventure?" Alfred asked the bottles in front of him, but it was the figure beside him who scoffed. Alfred finally looked over to see Arthur downing what was left in his glass.

"Hardly. I just want to get out of this nowhere village as soon as possible, even if that means going with a fool such as you who can't keep his mouth shut," Arthur said over the rim of his glass and glared at Alfred with narrowed green eyes.

"Right! Because you're too weak to make it on your own!" Arthur's eyes narrowed even more, but Alfred's grin just widened as he continued. "And I'm going to save the world from that monster, so it works out okay in the end! You'll back me up and I'll make sure you don't get knocked out too often."

"I'm quite handy with an ice spell, I'll have you know," Arthur said as he lowered his glass. Alfred saw no trace of his book or sword, both of which he apparently needed to cast magic, so he assumed that Arthur was simply bluffing to scare him. Uptight black mages didn't scare him. It was just tales of ghosts in the caves that might have given him a few shivers now and then. Only a few, though.

"I'm counting on it! So whenever you're ready to leave, we can get the hell out of here. I went and got plenty of potions from the store, and my pistols are all cleaned and ready to go. I've got enough bullets to last at least until we reach the city, so that should be more than enough to get us by for a while. I've got a tent and a kit to help start a fire. Mom's gonna pack us some food, too, and I have gold saved up in case the monsters don't drop a lot," Alfred said, mentally checking off everything he had gathered for his upcoming journey as he prattled off the items. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur rolling his eyes.

"Ethers?" Arthur asked, and Alfred just blinked at him. Arthur sighed. "For mana? Magic isn't limitless, or maybe you didn't know that."

"I knew that!" Alfred said and puffed out his chest in indignation. "I just…assumed you would supply your own! You _are_ the black mage."

Arthur rolled his eyes again and shoved off the bar. "Indeed. Well, then. We'll depart in the morning, if you don't mind. I'd rather be well rested so you don't drive me _too_ insane."

He didn't give Alfred a chance to respond before he disappeared up the stairs leading to the rooms, so Alfred just shrugged. No need to mention that it was still way too early to sleep just yet, if those were his intentions. Instead Alfred waved down the bartender and ordered a glass of beer. He took the glass in his hand and turned to grin at the other tavern patrons.

"When you next hear of me, it will be news that I'm the great hero who saved the world!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd like a roar as several glasses were lifted in unison with his.

* * *

Although being in the best condition possible was the plan, Alfred barely slept that night. He kept waking up and hoping that it would be morning and he could just _leave_. He'd been waiting for the opportunity for years and even one more night was too long. Morning finally did come, but it found Alfred tired and sore, and his mother had to slap his cheeks to keep him from falling asleep in his oatmeal. With many hugs and kisses (from his mother, at least), Alfred finally bid farewell to his mother and brother. He paused as he left the house to glance back at them, though he hoped it wouldn't be the last time he'd ever see them. Someday he'd return as a celebrated hero that would have made his father proud. He waved one last time, then he hoisted his bag of supplies over his shoulder and made his way to the square.

Arthur was waiting there with a small satchel of his own, as well as the book and sword that he kept attached to a chain on his belt. He looked as impatient and stiff as ever, but the important thing was that he was really there and they were really leaving. Alfred shivered in excitement at the thought.

"This will probably work best if we just stay out of each other's hair as much as possible," Alfred said instead of what he really wanted to say, which was that he was beside himself with excitement and he was grateful that Arthur had agreed to come along. Maybe not that last part so much, because it would be a cold, cold day that he'd ever show any sort of appreciation towards Arthur.

"I imagine that will be much easier for me than you, especially when you encounter your first ghost." Arthur's mouth quirked up into a knowing, haughty smile that would have made Alfred angry if not for Arthur's words. He had mentioned ghosts. Alfred froze in fear, but just as quickly regained his composure. He waved his hand dismissively and adjusted his clothing in as casual a way as possible.

"Don't be ridiculous! Heroes aren't scared of anything, and they certainly don't need their back-up to save the day!" Alfred started towards the main road out of town, and to his relief Arthur followed a short distance behind him.

"Back-up?" Arthur asked, his tone both incredulous and insulted.

"Yeah, back-up! I mean, you've got that awesome sword and all, but you're still just a weak mage. Nothing like the hero that I am."

Alfred walked with his head held high, but then he noticed that there were no sounds of footsteps in addition to his own. He stopped and turned to find Arthur standing with his sword held aloft. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving rapidly, as if he was casting a spell.

"Ah! Hey, wait—"

Alfred held his hand up, but it was too late. Arthur's eyes shot open and he pointed the sword in Alfred's direction. Alfred ducked just in time to see a fiery blaze sail over his head and connect with a tree, which instantly went up in flames. Alfred slowly stood and moved his mouth up and down soundlessly as Arthur walked past him with a self-satisfied smile on his face. Alfred finally shook his head and jogged to catch up with Arthur without further comment.

There were villagers waiting at the outskirts to either wish Alfred luck or tell him not to come running back crying too quickly. He assured each of these people, but especially the naysayers, that when he returned it would be as a true hero. He didn't have as much time to gloat as he would have liked, because Arthur was moving at a brisk pace out onto the road that led to the city. For awhile Alfred simply followed without saying a word, not wanting to run the risk of irritating his new traveling partner, while he simultaneously kept an eye out for any vicious monsters, but in the end his need to talk, and talk constantly, won out.

"So what were you doing in my village in the first place, anyway? You trained in the city, right? Couldn't you have found a partner there? Or maybe you were such a pain in the ass that nowhere there would put up with you?"

He saw Arthur visibly twitch, but he didn't turn around or otherwise make any indication that he was planning to hurt Alfred for his remarks.

"That's none of your business. What happened to staying out of each other's hair as much as possible?"

Alfred shrugged and quickened his pace until he was walking at Arthur's side. "Eh. Well, since we're going to be traveling together for a while, I figure I might as well find out something about you that doesn't include what a jerk you are."

"You'll be sorely disappointed, then," Arthur said with a weary, impatient-sounding sigh. He shook his head and lifted his hand to motion at the countryside surrounding them. "At any rate, there's the more pressing matter of you not picking fights with every single monster we run across…"

But just as soon as he said that, Alfred was off the road and running towards a stray mochi that was feeding on the grass. Of course he easily dispatched the creature, but Arthur groaned and clutched at his forehead as Alfred came trudging back with a disappointed look on his face.

"Awww, it wasn't even carrying anything! What a letdown! Oh yeah, you were saying something?"

Arthur stared at Alfred for a moment, and Alfred simply beamed back at him. Then he let out yet another sigh.

"As I was saying, it would be wise to not engage every monster we encounter… What are you doing _now_?"

Alfred stopped just as he was about to pull the trigger on one of his pistols to look at Arthur, then he turned his gaze along his intended trajectory to a hornet's nest hanging on a tree. The hornets inside were merely a small obstacle to overcome. He looked back at Arthur and grinned.

"I'm gonna shoot it down! You never know what sort of treasure is hidden inside those things!" Alfred said proudly. Arthur's already severe expression darkened exponentially, and Alfred tensed, ready to run like hell if Arthur was planning to cast a spell of some kind on him.

"And what were you planning to do about the hornets inside, pray tell?"

"…shoot them down, too?"

"And how many bullets do you have for this task?"

"Twelve in each gun!"

"And how many hornets do you suppose are inside that nest?"

Arthur's condescending tone and the look on his face were starting to get to Alfred, and his cheeks burned in both embarrassment and anger.

"Well, you could help, too! You've got magic!" Alfred said. He flailed in frustration at an unimpressed-looking Arthur, who scoffed and looked away.

"My magic isn't limitless, or did you already forget that? I swear, the only things in that mostly empty head of yours are thoughts of how you're going to be a great hero, and yet you don't know the first thing about what that really means."

Alfred scowled, and although he wanted to tell Arthur that was most certainly not the case and of course he knew what it meant to be a hero, he found he had no rebuttal. He shoved his pistol back into its holster and stomped ahead of Arthur.

"Go to hell!" he called over his shoulder and heard Arthur sigh, but follow after him.

The problem with taking the main road to the city was that there weren't a lot of monsters — dangerous and interesting ones, that was — along the way. There might be a wolf or a killer vulture every now and then, but otherwise it was just the mostly harmless mochi who dared to venture near the road. So their journey was painfully uneventful, made all the more unbearable by the silence between them that was only occasionally broken by Alfred insisting that they pursue a monster he saw in the distance and Arthur refusing to do so. On the positive side, Alfred tried to reassure himself, they would reach the city in good time. In the city there would be plenty of shops with wares far above and beyond what had ever been sold back home. Maybe he could even ditch Arthur in favor of a white mage he actually got along with.

"So what kind of spells do you have?" Alfred asked casually after the silence became too much for him to bear again, and he ignored Arthur's groan. "I've heard there's mages who are so powerful they can even cast things like Flare, but I'll bet you're nowhere near that level."

"I'm still a low-level black mage, yes, but I assure you that's far and beyond being a complete rookie in the gunner class," Arthur snapped in reply. He finally turned around to glare at Alfred.

Any of Alfred's protests died in his throat at the sight of a large shadow looming behind Arthur. He felt the blood drain from his face as the form got larger and larger, and his hands trembled too much for him to properly grasp his pistols. Arthur blinked at him, and although he started to turn around to see what Alfred was staring at, he was too slow. He was sent flying off the road and into the grass by a powerful blow from one of the monster's arms. It stood up at its full height and roared down at Alfred, giving him a full view of what he was facing: a great, white beast with red eyes, sharp teeth and powerful claws. He'd heard tell of such things, but had never encountered one himself.

"Is that a yeti? What the hell is a yeti doing way out here?" Alfred yelled as he took off running as fast as he could away from the monster.

"Shut up and fight it, you fool," Arthur replied as he climbed to his feet, wobbling slightly as he did, and coughed. He held his sword horizontally in front of him and cast a sharp glance in Alfred's direction. "Now's your chance to be a hero, so distract the damned thing while I cast this spell."

"Me? Why do I have to distract it?" Alfred cried, but it was clear that the yeti already had its sights set on him and was pursuing him as he raced through the fields away from it. Arthur didn't respond, as his eyes were closed and he was already chanting incantations, the telltale glow of magic building around him and artificially billowing his cloak.

"Damn it… All right, ugly, let's do this thing," Alfred said to the yeti, which swung its arm and only just missed hitting Alfred. He pulled out his pistols and made for one of the trees. He scrambled up into its branches and aimed for the yeti's face. It roared, shaking the branches, and his shots missed their mark and hit the monster's arm instead. It swung the injured arm in rage, but Alfred nimbly jumped out of the tree and took off running again, occasionally turning to shoot at the still-pursuing yeti.

"Are you almost done? It might start throwing things if it's not taken care of soon!" Alfred yelled at Arthur, who didn't respond, only furrowed his brows. Alfred was about to yell at him again as he nearly tripped over a rock, but just then Arthur's eyes opened and he pointed his sword in the direction of Alfred and the yeti. Alfred yelped and fell to the ground as another fire spell only just barely missed him. It singed his coat, but hit the yeti dead on. The yeti let out an ear-splitting shriek as it went up in flames and ran around trying to extinguish itself. Finally, it fell to the ground and didn't move again. Regardless, Alfred didn't dare approach it until it dissipated, as all monsters did when they were felled.

"Ha…ha ha! Hey, we did it! Not bad, shorty!" Alfred said brightly as he stood up and brushed off his pants. Arthur made a noncommittal noise as he lowered his sword back to his side and walked over to the spot previously occupied by the monster. He kneeled and picked something round and shiny off the ground, turning it over in his hand.

"What do you suppose a yeti was doing with a pearl?" he asked as he stood up and inspected the gem. Alfred whistled and moved closer to look over Arthur's shoulder.

"Who knows, but I bet it will get us a lot of money!" he said brightly and reached over Arthur's shoulder to grab the pearl. Arthur quickly closed his fist around it and shoved it in his satchel.

"You mean it will get _me_ a lot of money." Arthur adjusted his cloak and returned to the road in a very casual matter, as if he wasn't being a selfish jerk.

"What? No way! I helped kill it, and besides that, we're supposed to be a team, aren't we?" Alfred ran to catch up with Arthur, but he received no comment in response. His partner really was a pain in the ass, Alfred realized all over again.

The remaining duration of the trip was spent with Arthur acting very proud of himself and Alfred sulking behind him, with no further forced conversation or demands that they fight wolves prowling in the grass some distance away. His foul mood was instantly brightened when they reached the large gates of the city, and it was improved exponentially when they were allowed inside the gates to see the sights that awaited them.

That city, Green City, was tiny in comparison to other cities around the world, but to Alfred, who had only known his tiny village, it was the biggest town he'd ever seen. He stared in awe at all the houses, all the shops and restaurants, and all the varying inhabitants wandering around — humans, demi-humans, and even civilized monsters all working in tandem with each other. Alfred couldn't wait to explore.

He should have predicted, though, that Arthur would make it a point to kill his enthusiasm, because instead of wandering directly into town, Arthur made for an inn near the edge of the city. Alfred whined but followed after him.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to look around?" Alfred asked, not bothering to hide how restless he felt.

Arthur scoffed. "It's been a long day, and I'm quite ready to turn in. There will be plenty of time for exploring later."

* * *

"What do you mean? It's only been an hour! England, _come on_," America whined. He couldn't believe his bad luck. After only just starting the game, England already wanted to quit for the day. It had taken most of that time for England to get used to the controls and concept, and then they'd only gotten the opportunity to fight one monster and reach the first town — that was but a few steps on the overworld away — before England decided he'd had enough.

"One hour is quite sufficient, America. There will be plenty of other opportunities to play again, but I have work to do. Now if you would kindly explain how to end this game, I'll be going."

"It's only what — like, six over there? There's still plenty of time to play some more! Come on, England, I've been looking forward to this for months! Don't leave me hanging like this!" But England had apparently figured out on his own how to save and quit, because America was returned to the title screen with the message that his gaming partner had logged off. America swore colorfully, then tore off his headset and reached for his cellphone.

_You suck, England_, he texted in a huff. Here he'd been hoping to put several hours in, and he'd only just gotten the smallest taste of the game. He exited the game completely and brought up his e-mail. He tried to be as polite as possible, since Japan was one of his good friends and all, but still didn't bother to hide his frustration with Japan for picking such a lousy partner for him to play with.

His answer was a cryptic message that he'd understand the merits of having England as a partner soon enough. America didn't even bother trying to debunk that lousy theory of Japan's. All he had to do was wait for England to get too frustrated and drop out and then Japan would have to find him a better partner to play with — or better yet, just let him play the game on his own.

America had fleeting thoughts of trying to override Japan's programming so he could just play the game alone, but he decided he'd give England another chance to prove himself. It wasn't as though the experience had been awful or anything — he had to admit, just that it had been far too short. If nothing else, it would be fun to rile England up and make him squawk and flail in righteous indignation so he'd drop that fake gentleman act and prove what a foul-mouthed punk he really was. In the end, that was really the only way to survive extended exposure to England.

Satisfied with those thoughts, America picked up his Rubik's Cube and solved the puzzle in record time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's Play! Hetalia Fantasia!  
**

**By: Liete**

**A/N: ****The pace picks up here and contains nods to various video games.  
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* * *

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Eventually America had to give up attempting to text England, asking when they would play the game again, because he had the feeling that England had no idea how to even _check_ his text messages, much less send them. When he tried to call England's phone, he was immediately sent to voicemail. When England was ready to play the game again, America would probably receive a letter by snail mail, on parchment, in barely legible script. It would be stiff and formal, just like England tried to be.

A week later, America was beginning to believe that he'd only get to play the game for an hour every month, if that, whereas if he'd been playing alone the game would have been finished already. Japan still refused to relent on the issue, but when he still hadn't gotten his feedback after a couple months, he'd have to give in. Usually he'd send a new game and America would get back to him within a week with his detailed thoughts about what worked and what didn't. Japan would doubtlessly start to get anxious when America had to report back that he hadn't even encountered the first boss yet and therefore couldn't form an opinion either way.

Naturally America was surprised to find a text message waiting for him on his phone, shortly after he'd become resigned to his fate of never playing the game except for a very short time every month. England had set aside a few hours to play that Saturday, and he expected America to be prompt. Of course England had picked a time that forced America to wake up at a ridiculous hour of the morning, but beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed. He sent back a message that yes, he'd be there, and that England had better not give up after just an hour again.

Saturday came much more quickly than anticipated, and it was with a great deal of groaning and grumbling that America woke up at the crack of dawn. Normally he would have hit his snooze button a few times, but that morning he slipped on his glasses right away and fell out of bed. He shuffled over to his computer and loaded up the game to find England already waiting for him.

"Good morning, America," England said as America slipped on his headset. America snorted at the unintentional reference to one of his TV shows. "I expect you're ready to continue assisting me with this venture?"

"Yeah, whatever. We shouldn't put so much time in between when we play this game, all right? The experience isn't the same when you wait for weeks in between gaming sessions." America wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched out his stiff muscles. It was really too early on a Saturday to be just waking up, but he'd see it through regardless.

"Some of us are actually _busy_ and don't have time for frivolity, America." The way England said it made America imagine him sitting at his computer with a cup of tea. Pinky out, of course. "Pip pip cheerio, jolly good, eh wot?" and the like.

"Busy doing what? Sewing doilies and talking to imaginary unicorns?"

"He's not imaginary! You just aren't pure enough to see him! Or the fairies, for that matter!"

America chose not to point out that England had no right to talk about purity when he was the closet pervert who read porn during world meetings. Instead he focused on the loaded game and his and England's characters and the town they'd just arrived in.

"Anyway, after we buy items, we should talk to the townspeople. Sometimes they give items, but sometimes they'll tell us where to go next, or if there's any available side quests," America said as he started leading Alfred towards the item shop.

"Side quests?"

"Yeah, they're not necessary to continue the game, but sometimes you get awesome items out of the deal!"

* * *

"Remind me again why we're heading to a castle in the middle of nowhere instead of continuing on to Red City like we should?" Arthur asked, and Alfred had to groan. For someone who acted so high and mighty, Arthur sure could be oblivious sometimes.

"You heard those people in the square! There's a princess trapped in that castle, and we're going to rescue her! Great heroes won't ignore someone in need, no matter how who they are!" Alfred replied, feeling very proud of himself for being such a selfless hero.

"Weren't you the one who said we shouldn't waste time because there's a world to be saved?"

"You have to start small to achieve great things. If it bothers you so much, go back to town!"

"Then I'll just end up hearing about how your idiocy got you killed, and I'd rather not have that on my conscience, thank you."

Alfred abruptly halted, causing Arthur to crash into him. He turned around and put his hand on the side of his face, dropping his jaw in mock shock. "Arthur! You really _do_ care!"

Alfred expected Arthur to be up in arms about that remark, no matter how sarcastic it was. What he wasn't expecting was just how red Arthur's face turned before he reacted in a typically offended fashion.

"Don't be ridiculous. I merely require your presence until a more suitable partner appears," Arthur said, and walked ahead of Alfred with his head held a little too high.

"I was just joking around! No need to get so offended," Alfred said. He quickened his pace until he was side-by-side with Arthur. When he looked over, he saw that Arthur's cheeks were still a little pink, and Alfred grinned to himself. It was satisfying to know that even a person like Arthur could be embarrassed.

The road to the castle was another boring one, with only a few minor encounters to speak of, but there was the promise of monsters crawling around once they reached their destination. He'd have plenty of opportunities for target practice soon enough, and if they really did save the princess, the reward was bound to be a hefty one. He'd been eyeing a few of the guns he'd found in the city's weapon shop, but they had been out of his price range.

Speaking of weapons, he thought, there was the matter of Arthur's sword. Arthur refused to engage weak monsters because he didn't want to waste mana, and yet he had a perfectly good sword to fight them with. It didn't make any sense.

"So what's up with your sword? Do you not know how to use it the real way or something?" Alfred folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the clouds.

Arthur was silent for a moment, and Alfred assumed that he was trying to decide if he wanted to answer Alfred's question, tell him to shut up, or perhaps just hurt him. He finally cleared his throat, and Alfred turned to pay attention.

"It's ornamental to anyone who isn't a mage. I can cast magic without it just fine, but it enhances the power of my spells. It's blunt, so it's worthless as a sword, though it could act as a striking weapon in a pinch," Arthur explained, giving Alfred a pointed look.

Alfred blinked. He honestly hadn't been expecting an answer in the first place, much less an answer like that.

"Oh. Thanks for telling me," he said, unable to think of anything better to say.

"Hmm."

Once again silence fell over them, but it was far from comfortable. Alfred hated it. If they weren't arguing, they weren't speaking to each other at all. Alfred had no idea what to say to Arthur, though. Nearly all of his attempts to get to know his partner were rebuffed. True, he could stand to have a little more tact when it came to how he worded those inquiries, but Arthur could be less bristly, too.

"Ma-ia-hii, ma-ia-huu, ma-ia-hoo, ma-ia-haha," Alfred sang after a time and put a little bounce into his step. When all else failed, he simply had to entertain himself.

"Stop that," Arthur said immediately, but Alfred just straightened his posture and sang more loudly. Arthur scowled and pulled his sword off its chain. "Would you like me to demonstrate how effective this is as a blunt weapon?"

"Man, you're no fun at all," Alfred said, ceasing his singing. The sun was beginning to set, and the castle was still but a dot on the horizon. The monsters were significantly more aggressive once the sun went down, so their best bet was to set up camp for the night.

* * *

"But that doesn't mean you can stop playing for the day, England. It just means that we're refreshing the party," America quickly clarified, after he'd recommended using a tent before they reached the castle.

"I wasn't even going to suggest that!" England snapped in reply. America rolled his eyes.

"Just making sure. It's only been twenty minutes, but I never know with you." America ignored England's grumbling and turned his attention back to the game.

* * *

Alfred brushed off his hands as he put the finishing touches on the tent, then he turned around to find Arthur already sitting in front of the fire. Alfred sat down cross-legged and pulled a sandwich from his bag.

He barely had the sandwich in his mouth when Arthur started singing in a low voice that made a shiver go down his spine.

"The fire flares up and burns it to a crisp. Enflames it from side to side and burns it to a crisp. It leaves not a trace…"

"Hey. Hey. _I _can't sing, but you can sing that creepy song? It sounds like you're trying to summon something evil!"

"And if I am?" Arthur replied nonchalantly.

"Ha ha, really funny," Alfred said, waiting for Arthur to laugh at him for being gullible, but that response never came. Arthur just stared at him from across the fire, and his green eyes looked somehow sinister in that light. Alfred shivered again.

"Well…you can just stay out here with your evil monsters! I'm going to bed!" Alfred said, abruptly standing. His appetite was long gone, so he shoved his sandwich back into his bag and crawled into the tent. Normally he could fall asleep without any problems, but he kept thinking about Arthur's song, and then he was afraid that he'd open his eyes to find a ghost or devil staring at him. Eventually the need to sleep won out over fear, and he fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

* * *

Although Alfred couldn't for the life of him understand how royalty could let their castle get overrun with monsters, he didn't question it. The fact that he was running through the stone hallways shooting wolves, giant beetles and imps was thrilling enough that he didn't care how they'd managed to get there in the first place.

"Wait… I said wait, you bastard!" Arthur called from somewhere behind him. He sighed, but stopped and turned to find Arthur leaning against the wall and clutching at his stomach.

"Oh, come on! You can't be tired already!" He took the time to reload his guns while Arthur limped towards him.

"I'm not built for this sort of strenuous activity," Arthur said, wheezing.

"Well, that's just sad. Whatever. I'll run on ahead and you just get rid of any enemies I miss! We'll regroup in the tower!" Alfred didn't wait for a response before he took off running again.

"Wait, damn you!" Arthur yelled after him, but Alfred was on an adrenaline high that couldn't be satisfied by idling around waiting for Arthur to catch up with him.

He finally found the stairwell leading to the tower and took the steps two at time, pausing only to shoot monsters he encountered on the way. He knew how those stories went. The princess would be trapped in the tallest tower, unable to escape because of a horrible monster keeping her prisoner. If he encountered such a monster he'd probably need Arthur to back him up, but in the meantime he could look cool in front of the princess.

An imp managed to cut his shoulder with its knife before Alfred could kick it out of the way, but it was a minor wound. Nothing a potion couldn't easily fix. He made sure to get rid of every single enemy he found on the stairs before he reached the top, then he kicked open the door to find several people huddled in a corner. A few knights trembled with their spears held ready to attack, but they eased up when they saw it was a human, not a monster, coming through the door.

"Don't worry, everyone! The monsters have all been taken care of! You and the princess are safe now!" Alfred said, puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger. There was a collective sigh of relief and several of the room's occupants began cheering and hugging each other.

Alfred grinned as he looked around the room, but something was wrong. There was no horrible boss monster, and no sign of a beautiful princess waiting for his daring rescue. Maybe he'd picked the wrong tower?

An elderly woman noticed Alfred looking around the room and she left the group of relieved castle inhabitants. She slowly approached Alfred and reached out to pat his shoulder. He blinked down at her, but she answered his question before he could even ask it.

"We are deeply grateful that you disposed of all those monsters, but I'm afraid you're mistaken. The princess is in another castle."

The smile instantly fell off his face, and he felt something slowly building up inside him. Really, after all that, there was only one possible way to react to such a revelation.

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" America yelled and sent his keyboard flying. He heard the glass of his window break before he saw it, and that was quickly followed by the sound of a car alarm. He cringed.

"America? What's wrong?"

America looked back at the computer screen and remembered that — Oh, right, he'd left England behind to run ahead and be the hero on his own. England still didn't know that they'd been in the wrong castle the whole time. In a panic, America picked up an empty hamburger wrapper and crinkled it against the headset's microphone.

"England…technical…difficulties…need…to…exit…" he said and unplugged the headset, hoping that England would fall for it and really believe that he'd had technical difficulties that didn't include him throwing his keyboard out the window. Apparently it worked, because America found himself looking at the game's main menu. He let out a sigh.

The car alarm was still blaring, so America got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to the window. He very slowly and very carefully lifted himself up to peek outside. He saw two people standing by the car, which had his keyboard embedded in one of its windows, and pointing in his direction. He winced and dropped out of sight again.

He'd have to face the music eventually, so he tried to act as nonchalant as possible as he prepared to brave the impending onslaught.

* * *

It took several apologies and some smooth talking to avoid having to explain just _how_ he'd managed to get the keyboard embedded in the window like that, but America managed to placate the owner of the car with promises to replace the window without any insurance reports.

He had to replace the keyboard and the glass of his window, but to his great surprise England responded right away that he'd be willing to play the game again that weekend. This time America managed to talk him into playing at a reasonable time of the day for both of them.

"So anyway, we were kind of in the wrong castle," America explained, pausing to let England yell at him for wasting time before he continued. "We'll have to go back to town to regroup a bit, and then we'll try again!"

* * *

Alfred was feeling quite lucky that he hadn't been brutally murdered by Arthur after he'd explained that they'd gone to the wrong castle, but he had a feeling that their awkward silences were going to increase in frequency. Arthur had responded to his recommendation that they split up and get supplies with a simple grunt.

On the positive side, those castle inhabitants really had been grateful, and so Alfred had more gold to spare for a new weapon. His father's pistols were great, but they lacked the sort of firepower he knew he'd need further down the line. To his great dismay, everything he wanted was still out of his price range. The larger cities would no doubt have even more expensive weapons that would continue to cost more than he could afford. Dejected, he decided to see if he could just find a way to upgrade his pistols on his own.

As he was walking back to the inn, he spotted a man in a dark cloak standing away from the hustle and bustle of the bazaar. He motioned for Alfred to come closer, and Alfred looked around before he complied.

"Over here, stranger," the man said before he disappeared into an alleyway. Alfred followed, but paused when he saw how dark it was. The man still beckoned him forward. "I have something you might be interested in."

"Yeah, cause there's nothing shady about a man covered from head to toe in a dark cloak who wants me to follow him into a dark alley to look at his wares," Alfred said without moving from his spot. He had to admit that he was very curious, but he kept one hand on a pistol anyway. "So what is it you've got?"

The man chuckled before he cast his cloak aside to reveal a variety of weapons and accessories. Alfred's jaw dropped and he stepped closer to get a better look. There were bombs and firearms that were far beyond anything he had ever seen or even heard about. What caught his eye in particular, though, was a bazooka that looked to be more powerful than anything he could ever hope to get in the city.

"How much for this?" he asked, and though the man's mouth was covered, Alfred could tell he was smiling.

"Three hundred pieces of gold and it's yours, stranger."

"Three hundred? That cheap? What's the catch?"

"No catch. You will just have to learn how to use it on your own."

Alfred chewed on his lip as he contemplated whether or not to trust the man. Rationally, he knew that it was crazy to trust a guy who was selling such ridiculously powerful weapons at such cheap prices, but at the same time, he really wanted that bazooka. The best he'd been hoping for was maybe a rifle — so a bazooka would be a dream come true.

Let it not be said that Alfred didn't take stupid risks for the sake of the greater good, and he decided that shady or not, he was going to get that weapon.

"I'll take it!" he said, handing over the appropriate number of gold pieces. The man laughed and handed over the bazooka, which Alfred examined carefully. It was obviously built differently from other such weapons he'd seen before, but it was still just a bazooka, in the end. It was then that Alfred realized something.

"Oh, hey! What do I use as…ammo…" he said, trailing off when he realized the man was gone. He shrugged and slung it over his shoulder. Since he had money left over, he bought a couple of boxes of bullets for his pistols, then swore when he realized that he was late to meet Arthur in the square.

Arthur was there tapping his foot and looking fit to kill when Alfred came running up.

"Where have you been? We were supposed to depart nearly half an hour ago!" Arthur said, gesticulating wildly.

"Hey, you're talking to me again!" Alfred said. Arthur slammed his satchel into Alfred's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, before he stomped decidedly toward the exit out of town, headed in the direction of the castle — the correct one, where the princess still waited to be rescued.

Alfred muttered under his breath about how Arthur needed to lighten up, then he quickly followed after.

* * *

"Now that we're in the _right_ castle this time, don't you think it's a little weird?" Alfred asked, looking around the dank castle that was a stark contrast to the castle they'd been in before.

"How do you mean?" Clearly after what had happened in said castle, Arthur didn't care that things were different.

"Well, the other one was crawling with monsters, and this one is just full of cobwebs. Really _big _cobwebs." Alfred gestured to the wispy threads that stretched across nearly every inch of the place. His hand got stuck in one of them, and he flailed wildly to get it loose.

"I suppose it _is_ rather odd that the princess wouldn't just leave if this is all that's here. Perhaps she's afraid of the webs getting stuck in her pretty hair?"

Alfred stared openly at Arthur, shocked that such an uptight person was actually capable of joking. Arthur was acting as if nothing had happened, though, so Alfred just gave him one last curious look before he searched for a stairwell.

"Well, anyway, we should head towards the top and work our way down from there. If there's no monsters around, this shouldn't take long at all, right?"

"Kindly refrain from running ahead like an idiot this time."

Alfred stuck his tongue out, and Arthur scoffed. Alfred wouldn't even think of running ahead, anyway, since the castle was unsettling all around. The cobwebs just made it even more creepy, like it was a nest for ghosts. He shivered at the thought. He suddenly wasn't sure if he wanted to walk ahead and potentially be the first to run into something scary, or if he wanted Arthur to go ahead, and leave himself open to attacks from behind.

"The stairs are over there," Arthur said, interrupting Alfred's train of thought. He looked to where Arthur was motioning to see an ominous looking staircase spiraling upwards into darkness. He swallowed thickly.

"Right! Onward to save the princess!" His tone was more shrill than he would have liked, and his steps were a little too stilted as he walked over to the staircase. He peered up cautiously before he started his ascent. Daylight filtered in through small windows, but that did nothing to dispel the creepy atmosphere. If anything, it simply added to it. Dust particles and little wisps of cobweb could be easily seen floating in the light.

"The fire flares up and burns it to a crisp," Arthur sang behind him in the same low voice he'd used before, and Alfred could feel his hairs standing on end.

"Don't do that!" Alfred was being completely serious, but Arthur merely chuckled in reply. Really, Arthur was completely ridiculous — serious and pompous most of the time, except when it was inappropriate. Of course, Alfred had no room to talk when he refused to read the atmosphere in general. Still, he knew that missions to save princesses from creepy castles were times when being serious was absolutely necessary.

At each landing, Alfred stopped to look out for monsters, but every floor was empty. It was all very unsettling, and Arthur's singing wasn't helping the matter.

But just as Alfred was about to yell at Arthur for not taking the situation seriously, there came a voice from the top of the stairs.

"Hello? Is someone there?" It was a girl, and Arthur stopped singing instantly. He and Alfred exchanged looks, then ran up the remaining stairs.

"We're here, Princess! Don't worry about a thing!" Alfred charged through the door to the tower, only to stop short when he saw what was inside. In the pale light seeping in from a skylight above them, Alfred could see bones scattered about the room, along with weapons and armor. Across the room, a girl with very short blonde hair sat on a bed, looking terrified. Alfred looked from her to the bones and then back. There was only one logical reason why the castle was abandoned and bones littered the tower, while the princess remained unharmed.

"She's a killer princess! We have to get out of here!" Alfred yelled and turned, only to have his face smash into Arthur's hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's clearly something else at work here," Arthur said, wiping off his hand and walking forward into the room. "Excuse me, Your Highness. I apologize for this ruffian's audacity, but we really must hurry out of here."

She shook her head and pointed at the ceiling, making squeaking noises that only vaguely sounded like words. Alfred frowned and looked up, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing, that was, until suddenly the shadow on the ceiling moved and something glinted in the newly exposed light, revealing that it wasn't a skylight but a hole where the ceiling used to be. Alfred squinted, but it wasn't necessary. The shadow dropped right onto Arthur — who was still walking towards the princess — and Alfred had to shield his face from the debris sent flying by the force of the shadow's impact. When he lowered his arm, light poured in through the hole in the ceiling, showing very clearly what had previously been covering it.

"What the bloody hell?" Arthur's startled voice was only barely audible from beneath the enormous body of an oversized, monstrous spider, which was hard at work wrapping up Arthur's body in its thick threads. Alfred just gawked. Then the princess screamed, startling him out of his trance.

"H-Hey!" Alfred shouted, pulling out his pistols to shoot at the spider's eyes. He missed his marks but the spider backed off, hissing as it turned its attention to Alfred. Alfred gulped, then jumped out of the way as the spider lunged for him. He tore across the floor to where Arthur lay struggling to free himself from the webs binding him.

"That explains where all those cobwebs came from!" Alfred said, trying to smile. He pulled out his knife to cut Arthur loose, while said mage glared at him.

"Now is not the time for foolishness! Get me out of here!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying! These are a lot thicker than I thought!" Alfred looked behind him, only to see the spider lunging for them again. He swore and shoved his knife back in its pouch, then swung Arthur over his shoulder and made for the door.

"What are you doing?" Arthur squawked, but Alfred ignored him.

"We'll be back, Princess! Don't worry!" Alfred called over his shoulder. He managed to dodge the spider again and escape to the winding stairwell. It was far too small for the spider to fit in, so he'd have the chance to cut Arthur loose before they took on the monster for real. His plans were quickly foiled, however, when the tower shook from the force of the spider crawling alongside its outer perimeter, stabbing its long legs in the windows in an attempt to reach the fleeing forms of Alfred and Arthur. All Alfred could do was run down the stairs in the hopes of getting away.

"Put me down at once and cut me loose, you fool!" Arthur said, squirming in a most annoying fashion.

"Oh, yeah, because that's totally an option. What do you want me to say? 'Please, Mr. Spider, can you stop chasing us for a second? I need to cut my partner here out of the webbing you trapped him in!' Gee, why didn't I think of that?"

"Be quiet. Use your head and think of _something_, then!"

"Don't you think I'm trying? And quit squirming. You're making this harder than it should be," Alfred said. He nearly pitched forward when the spider stabbed its leg directly in front of him and he had to abruptly stop. From another window, Alfred could see its eyes peering in, and he realized that it had them where it wanted them. In an instant, they would be impaled on another of its legs — if he didn't act quickly. Willing to endure the verbal lashing he'd receive later, Alfred tossed Arthur over the spider's leg, receiving indignant yells as Arthur tumbled down the stairs. Then he slid underneath the spider's leg and followed after.

"You are an idiot! A complete imbecile! What were you _thinking_?" Arthur predictably yelled as he came to a halt at one of the stairwell's landings. Alfred reached the bottom not long after, and he grumbled as he pulled out his knife and walked towards Arthur's prone form.

"I was _thinking_ that I didn't want either of us to die and I didn't really have a choice! Now shut up for a second. That spider will be distracted for a minute while it tries to find a way in here, so I'll cut you loose in the meantime."

Just as soon as the words left Alfred's mouth, a nearby wall exploded inwards and the spider appeared, rearing its legs. Alfred wanted to both laugh and cry, but instead he grabbed Arthur again and ran as fast as he could away from the spider's relentless pursuit.

"Goddamn, this thing is persistent!" Alfred looked around desperately for something he could hide behind long enough to cut Arthur out of the thick webbing, but found nothing that wouldn't be instantly destroyed. Escaping to the stairs would just repeat what had happened before, and he couldn't fight back properly with Arthur to worry about.

"Brilliant observation, truly," Arthur snapped impatiently, bringing Alfred out of his thoughts. Really, he should have just ignored his mother's wishes and gone on his adventure alone, considering that his partner was an uncooperative, stuck-up jerk who hated him. Here he was trying to protect Arthur from getting killed by an enormous spider, and all he was getting was verbal abuse.

"You know, I think I might sacrifice you in the name of the greater good, and let the spider eat you so I can get away."

"If you do, I swear I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your wretched life!" Arthur shouted.

It nearly made Alfred stop short. The thought of being haunted by a ghost was terrifying in itself. The thought of being haunted by Arthur was so unbearable that he nearly dropped the real thing in his horror.

"God, no! Anything but that!" Alfred cried, and the sudden force of him picking up his pace made Arthur squawk in a most undignified way that he'd no doubt deny later if called on it. Alfred had no choice. He had to fight back somehow, while keeping Arthur safe at the same time.

"I'm going to try something a little crazy, all right?" Alfred asked, but he wasn't looking for approval and simply ignored Arthur's protests. He pulled out one of his pistols with his free hand and made for the wall furthest from his current position.

As he neared the wall, he turned around, skidding backwards so he was facing the oncoming spider. Once it was close, he'd shoot it in the mouth or eyes, so it would be stunned long enough for him to cut Arthur loose. That was his plan, but the spider was approaching with alarming speed, and the sight of its enormous fangs and many gleaming eyes made Alfred's knees being to shake. Suddenly, it was on them, lifting its front legs to run them both through. Alfred heard Arthur gasp, and the reminder that he also had to protect Arthur was enough to spring Alfred into action. He squeezed his eyes shut, firing once, twice.

Instead of taking a spider leg to the gut, Alfred heard the monster hiss. He opened his eyes to find that the spider had backed off and was desperately trying to claw at its own eyes, two of which had been shot. Alfred carefully edged away and ran to a clear spot ,where he laid Arthur's wrapped body on the floor.

"You—! You're so—!" Arthur sputtered. Alfred grinned as he pulled out his knife again and set to work cutting the webs.

"Awesome? Yeah, I know. So we'll just get you out of here and then we'll take that bastard down!"

Arthur groaned and threw his head back as Alfred tried his best to cut the webs quickly without hurting Arthur in the process. His progress was cut short when the floor shook violently; Alfred looked over to see the spider slamming its abdomen against the floor, causing it to begin to crack. Alfred quickened his movements, justifying that he could always give Arthur a potion later if he was cut, as well.

Just as the webs were cut loose enough for Arthur to wriggle free, the floor gave way and the spider, as well as Arthur, fell into the gloom of the level below. Alfred just barely managed to grab onto what remained of the floor in time.

"Arthur!" he shouted, but there was no reply. He tried to scramble up onto the floor again, but a loud impact below reverberated through the castle and crumbled what little floor he had managed to hold onto. Alfred fell, and he let out a startled gasp when his back slammed painfully against some rubble. Regardless, he scrambled to his feet quickly, and found himself in a dark room. The only light was what was coming from above. He found the spider on its back, its legs curled in on itself, and Arthur's motionless body nearby.

"Arthur!" He ran towards the fallen mage and started shaking his shoulders. "Damn you, Arthur! Don't be dead!"

Alfred pulled a potion out of his bag, removing the cork with his teeth so he could pour the liquid in Arthur's slightly open mouth. Arthur started coughing and his eyes fluttered open, his gaze finally coming to rest on Alfred.

"You're all right!" Alfred said in relief, and he was surprised to find that he was really _glad_ that Arthur was indeed fine.

Arthur, however, turned a shade of red that Alfred could see even in the darkness and batted Alfred's hands away.

"I'd be much better if it hadn't been for your foolishness," Arthur said, standing and brushing himself off. Alfred stood as well and puffed out his cheeks in offense.

"Hey, it's dead, isn't it? Who cares if we got a little roughed up along the way? Besides, you were the one who got caught in its web in the first place."

Arthur didn't respond right away with the expected angry rebuttal, and that made Alfred nervous. Instead, Arthur was looking over at the spider's body with a furrowed brow.

"It's not dead," Arthur said quietly. Alfred tensed and followed Arthur's gaze. He squinted to see in the faint light and was horrified to find that the spider's legs were twitching slightly.

"No way!" Alfred gasped just as the spider heaved itself off its back. Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and took off running again. "You may not be built for strenuous activity, but you damned well better run now!"

Arthur wrenched his hand out of Alfred's grasp and pulled out his sword. "No. No more running. We have to destroy it this time."

Alfred winced, but he had to agree. Running again would get them nowhere, even if the spider hadn't yet noticed them. "So can you just burn it? Fire spell!"

"There are too many cobwebs in here. If even one were to ignite, the whole castle would turn into an inferno. No, I'll have to freeze it and then we can…" Arthur trailed off and turned to look very seriously at Alfred. "Do you have anything that can expel a considerable amount of force all at once?"

"I don't…" Alfred started to say, but then he remembered the bazooka he'd purchased earlier. He pulled it off his back and Arthur nodded.

"That'll do. Here it comes, so you'll have to distract it while I cast the spell."

"Wait, I don't—"

But Arthur was already muttering the incantation and holding his sword aloft, giving Alfred no chance to explain that he had no ammunition for the bazooka and didn't even know how to use it in the first place. He couldn't interrupt Arthur, either, not when the spider had finally seen them and was quickly closing the distance.

He pulled out his pistols and shot at it as he ran away from Arthur. The spider hissed, turning its attention to Alfred as he tried to focus on shooting at the spider and not tripping on rubble. The spider had a much easier time of it, and it was on Alfred much more quickly than he would have liked. He was knocked off his feet by one of its legs, but he shot it in one of its injured eyes before it could bite him. It let out a shriek and backed off, but it didn't concern itself with its eye for very long this time. Nevertheless, Alfred scrambled to his feet and ran away, wishing that he didn't always have to act as the decoy while Arthur was casting magic.

While Alfred was trying to think of any possible way he could use his bazooka, he was once again knocked onto his face, sending his pistols flying out of his grasp and beyond reach. He rolled over and skittered backwards, but he was trapped in a pile of rubble with the spider getting dangerously close. Thus the epic tale of Alfred, gunner extraordinaire, would be abruptly brought to a close because he'd been killed early in his journey by a spider, of all things. He kicked at its legs in vain, hoping that it wouldn't hurt too much to die.

Just before he could be devoured, the spider was encased in a block of ice, completely frozen. Alfred blinked, then wrenched himself out of the hole he'd been trapped in.

"Now shoot it! It will shatter if you hit it with enough force!" Arthur called from across the room. Alfred wanted to shout back that it wasn't a possibility, but instead he pulled out his bazooka and propped it on his shoulder. Had it been any other bazooka, he'd simply have had to pull the trigger and a rocket would be fired, but this one had no trigger and no ammo to speak of. He had a dud, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that earlier.

"Alfred! Do it now!" Arthur shouted, and Alfred realized that the ice was beginning to shake and crack, meaning that the spider would burst free soon and they'd be back to square one.

He closed his eyes, wishing that he had magic like Arthur to attack with, or some other sort of special power he could use in moments like this. He opened his eyes again as something on his shoulder began to shake, and he gaped as he realized it was the bazooka, swelling with power.

"What the—" Alfred started to say, but then it fired, knocking him backwards off his feet. What was fired was not a rocket at all, but what looked like a pure energy shot. Alfred watched as the shot hit the spider, shattering it and the ice it was trapped in completely. Not long after, the pieces began to dissipate, leaving behind no trace of the spider they'd had such trouble with.

"Well, damn," Alfred said, unable to think of anything better to say. Arthur came up behind him and clicked his tongue.

"Not bad," he said, and although it was probably the closest to a compliment that Alfred was ever going to get from Arthur, he was more concerned with how the hell he'd just done what he did.

"But I didn't even do anything! It fired by itself!" Alfred exclaimed, continuing to stare in disbelief while Arthur went to retrieve what the spider had dropped.

"That was mana energy, of course," Arthur explained, picking up and pocketing various trinkets. "I wasn't aware that you possessed a weapon that could artificially harness mana like that."

"I…well. Okay," Alfred said, unaware that he'd even had any mana to begin with. So because he was thinking about wanting to use special powers, the bazooka had done just that? That deal with the shady merchant in that alleyway had been pretty sweet, after all.

"Well, hey!" Alfred said brightly, jumping to his feet. "We did it, Arthur!"

He grinned and held his hand up for Arthur to slap, but Arthur merely flushed and cleared his throat.

"Don't dawdle. We have to inform the princess that she is now free," Arthur said in a flat voice. He walked stiffly towards the large doors leading out of the room, leaving Alfred to frown and follow after.

* * *

"Damn it, England! We just beat our first boss and that's all you have to say? We were having a moment! A _moment!_ And you ruined it!" America couldn't believe that England would deny him his right to showboat after a difficult boss fight or deny them more time to kick ass together, but that was really just like England, after all — taking any opportunity he could to shut down America's small joys.

There was a moment of silence before England finally responded. "Yes, well. We've played for long enough today, don't you think?"

"Seriously? Ah, whatever, old man. At least you didn't chicken out halfway during the battle or anything," America said dismissively and sat up in his chair. England started to retort, but America interrupted him. "Anyway, send me another text when you're ready to play again."

Not waiting for a reply, he shut down the game and pulled off his headset, sighing. He couldn't believe that he was actually starting to _enjoy_ playing the game with England, pissy old man habits or not.

* * *

They were both available to play again not longer after, and it seemed that England had learned to care more about the game in the interim, because he impressed America with his drive to accomplish as much as possible. They made their way through towns, dungeons and monster after monster on their way to their ultimate goal of that final dungeon and the final boss that waited at the end.

With each boss monster that was defeated, England started to get a little more involved in the game, though he continued to practice his gentlemanly restraint — or whatever the hell he called it. He continued to call America foolish for wanting to showboat, but he wasn't insisting that they quit right away, either.

America plowed through the game with renewed vigor, confident that they'd finish it in good time, after all.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Alfred said, folding his arms behind his head. "There's a troll that is tolling the bridge to Blue City?"

"That's right, and I hear his price varies depending on how well off the traveler is," Arthur clarified.

"Better hide all our treasure, then! We've found some pretty awesome stuff in our travels that he might want."

"Indeed."

Although he was still a huge pain in the ass and a stiff jerk that refused to be friendly in any way, Alfred was now used to having him as a partner. Their formula for dispatching dangerous monsters was always the same: a combination of Alfred doing the distracting and heavy hitting while Arthur got busy casting magic. In the end, it worked well for them, and their continued success was testament to that fact. Alfred would almost say he was comfortable with Arthur, even if deep down he wished they could be friends instead of just traveling companions with a common goal.

The port from Red City had been closed, leaving them with no choice but to head north so they could find another town that would grant them passage to the other continent where the fabled monster awaited. So far they'd had no luck, but Alfred wasn't one to be discouraged, and thus they continued on. He'd managed to become a local hero in many of the cities they'd passed through, and so he considered that a small victory.

Blue City was where he was hoping they could hop on a ship across the ocean, but there was the matter of the large bridge that they had to cross along the way. Arthur had gathered information from a traveling merchant they'd encountered, only to learn about the troll that guarded it.

The bridge crossed a river that was too wide to jump across, and although they could head west to another bridge, that would set them back a few days, so they eventually decided to just try and face the troll. The bridge finally came into view, and as they approached, the rumored troll suddenly crawled onto the bridge and stood in the middle with his arms folded. It wasn't just any troll, though. No, this one was an albino with a chicken on his head. Alfred couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Seriously? You're what people have been having trouble with? Give me a break," Alfred said with a groan, ready to push past the troll and continue on their journey without losing any money at all.

"Do not question my greatness, mere human!" the troll declared, looking very pleased with himself as he puffed out his chest.

"But you have a chicken on your head," Alfred said in disbelief. The troll blinked and looked up.

"Eh? Well, look at that. There _is_ a chicken! Well, no matter!" The troll reassumed its previous proud stance. "If you wish to cross my awesome bridge, you will have to pay the toll!"

"To hell with that." Alfred pulled out a pistol and fired. The troll ducked, causing the bullet to hit the chicken on his head instead. It didn't fall or show any sign of injury at all. Instead it fluffed up its feathers and let out a loud crow.

For a moment there was silence as they all stared at each other. Alfred was ready to shoot again when he heard it: a low, rumbling sound that grew in intensity until, suddenly, a flock of angry chickens descended upon him and pecked at whatever bare skin they could reach. He let out a very unheroic shriek and ran, though he couldn't escape their relentless attack. Finally he fell to the ground underneath a flurry of feathers and beaks, and he could hear the troll laughing and see Arthur pinching his nose with his eyes squeezed shut.

"I give up! I give up!" Alfred cried, flailing desperately and not succeeding in freeing himself at all. The troll clapped his hands and the chickens dispersed, leaving Alfred curled into a ball on the ground.

"What rubbish," Arthur said impatiently while Alfred very slowly uncurled and stood up. "We'll just have to swim across, that's all."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the troll said, and shook his head as if he were giving sage advice. "There's perverted frogs in the water, not to mention the turtles who go straight for the back of your knees."

"Nothing I can't easily dispose of," Arthur said and disappeared down the bank. Alfred didn't move from his spot.

"You're not going to follow?" the troll asked, and Alfred shook his head furiously.

"Hell, no. After your chicken attack, I'm not trying anything until he does it first," Alfred replied quickly. The troll laughed again, but Alfred ignored him in favor of watching the far bank. He was hoping that eventually Arthur would appear there and shout that Alfred was taking too long and wasting time.

Arthur finally did reappear, but on the same side of the river. He was wide-eyed, red-faced and looked completely disheveled, though he quickly regained his composure and smoothed out his clothing.

"Yes, well. Pay the toll, Alfred," he said, his voice cracking slightly. The troll smirked and Alfred frowned.

"What happen—"

"Just pay the toll!" Arthur snapped.

* * *

"So what _was_ down there, England?" America asked casually, though he had a feeling that he knew the answer already.

"J-Just play the game, you dolt!" England sputtered, and America laughed. Yes, he really had known what the answer would be.

* * *

"Why do _I_ have to pay it? This is a partnership, isn't it?" Alfred snapped back.

"Aren't you the one in charge? Which means you must make certain sacrifices to benefit us both," Arthur said calmly, his composure back as if he'd never lost it.

"Oh, yeah. Now I'm in charge when it's convenient for you. To hell with that!" Alfred closed the distance between them and roughly grabbed Arthur's sword. "Why don't you give the troll this? You said yourself it's purely ornamental."

Arthur grabbed onto the sword and tried to tug it out of Alfred's firm grasp. "I also said that it's only ornamental to anyone who isn't a mage! Now let go, you oaf!"

"No! I'm tired of putting up with you and that stick in your ass! I'm taking a stand for once!"

Arthur scowled and released the sword, but he dove in and grabbed Alfred's pistols out of their holsters instead. "Why don't you give him these? They're completely useless, aren't they?"

"No, they're not! And my dad gave me those, so they're important!"

Not releasing his hold on the sword, Alfred attempted to grab the pistols from Arthur's hands. Arthur just moved them out of Alfred's reach, then tried to take back his sword when Alfred was close enough. In the end, they simply dropped the weapons and started pushing and tugging on each other, hurling insults all the while.

"Oh, I get it. You two are totally having sex with each other," the troll suddenly said, and Alfred and Arthur stopped tugging on each other so they could look over at him. He was rubbing his chin with one hand and nodding. "The mage tops, right?"

"What?" Alfred and Arthur yelled incredulously, in unison.

"Right on the mark? Goddamn, I'm awesome," the troll said, buffing his nails against his tattered shirt and looking very pleased with himself. The look quickly faded from his face as Alfred and Arthur picked up their respective weapons, approaching him with murderous intent.

A thorough beating later, they crossed the bridge without having to pay any toll, except maybe the horrible awkwardness that now hung between them. Alfred began to wonder if that was how other people saw them — that they were sleeping with each other, and that's why they fought so much. He tried to console himself with a reminder that trolls said things like that on purpose to rile people up. Still, he didn't think he'd be able to look at Arthur any time soon without blushing.

"What a horrid waste of valuable time," Arthur said, though Alfred made it a point not to look at him. "We should hurry on to Blue City as quickly as possible."

Alfred contemplated the potential benefits of quickly making the rest of the journey, but he was so flustered that he didn't think he could handle any monsters they encountered without fumbling and putting them both in danger. No, their best bet was to rest and regroup so they could set out with renewed vigor in the morning.

"Actually, I think it would be best if we found a good spot to set up camp. Been a long day, you know?"

* * *

"What do you mean you want to stop? We're making progress here, America! We must press on!" England yelled, his gentleman's façade fading to reveal his true colors. America would have been giddy with triumph if he hadn't been so exhausted.

"We've been at it for hours, England! It's getting late and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Work? You know, that thing you're always telling me I need to do more of?" America said, yawning as he stretched out his stiff joints. They must have been playing for close to ten hours, and though he could normally go a lot longer, he really did have work to do early in the morning. He hadn't been counting on England wanting to play for very long.

"Bollocks to that! Get your arse back here and play! America? America!"

"_Good night_, England," he said emphatically, just before he exited the game. He barely got his headset off before "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" blared from his cellphone, indicating that England was trying to call. America rolled his eyes and turned off the phone. He crawled over to his bed, collapsing in it without bothering to take off his clothes.

He awoke the next morning to find three voicemail messages in rapid succession from England. The first was a string of barely decipherable curse words. The second was a demand that America come back and play the game at once or England would hex him. The third one was completely different from the others in that England sounded very composed once more.

"I apologize for those previous two messages, America. I expect you'll contact me when you are ready to continue our venture."

America had to snort at how futilely England tried to make himself look like the bigger person. He was amazed, he had to admit, that England was just as heavily involved in the game now as he was. England couldn't keep up his pretense of simply playing for Japan's sake. America grinned as he shoved his phone in his pocket, planning to save those voicemail messages forever.


End file.
